


Imposter

by queuebird



Series: Writin' Dirty 2019 [5]
Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M, Writin' Dirty 2019
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-05
Updated: 2019-04-05
Packaged: 2020-03-20 16:33:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18996370
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/queuebird/pseuds/queuebird
Summary: The first time Arthur kisses Eames, Eames isn’t himself.





	Imposter

The first time Arthur kisses Eames, Eames isn’t himself.

They’re on a job. Obviously. Some sort of seduction thing was supposed to happen--Eames as the CEO’s boytoy and Arthur as a man sweeping him off his feet. In practice runs it was a bit of touching and suggestion, a bedroom look or two--Geoff, the CEO, was a paranoid man, so it wouldn’t have taken much for him to leap to conclusions the moment Ariadne led him into the hotel room.

But he and Arthur are _snogging._ It’s sweet and warm and wonderful and this is _not how Eames meant for it to happen._

Arthur slides a hand up into Eames’s blond, longish hair, tilting Eames’s angular face down towards his own, and Eames has never hated a forge more. Two years of strategic flirtation and dancing around Arthur, treating him with the most delicate kid gloves because god _damn_ Eames but he actually _likes_ him, and some model twink who’s probably never had an independent thought in his life gets to taste those lips before Eames. Who knew Arthur’s type was so...Aryan.

He kisses like nothing Eames expected. Sweetly, like a lover. Eames feels dizzy with the gentle, repeated press of Arthur’s soft tongue against his own. When they eventually break, Eames is almost breathless, clutching at Arthur’s lapels.

When he opens his eyes, Arthur isn’t even looking back at him. He’s facing Geoff and Ariadne, who are framed in the light of the doorway, Geoff’s soft face is openly betrayed, Ariadne’s solemn. When Arthur turns his dark gaze on Eames, something burns in the pit of Eames’s stomach.

Then Geoff is stalking forward, face pale, and Eames doesn’t have time to indulge that train of thought.

...

“Perfect,” Cobb says as they wake up and pull the IVs out of their sleeves.

Eames flicks a glance to Arthur. He’s busily winding the lines back into the PASIV, saying “alright, let’s get outta here” without looking up.

Joy has already cleared the room, her bejeweled backpack gone from the table. Geoff is stirring worriedly on the chair, so Eames grabs his folders and makes his escape, close behind Arthur, with his messenger bag and the PASIV bouncing against his leg.

“Darling,” Eames says under his breath, hurrying to stay level with Arthur.

Arthur shoots him a disbelieving look and walks even faster through the bookshelves, bursting through the back door of the library, right by a conveniently illegally parked car.

“I just have a couple of questions,” Eames continues, sliding into the passenger seat and tossing his files into the back, where they scatter over Arthur’s bag.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?” Arthur says. They pull away from the curb, Arthur’s forehead wrinkling as he checks four directions for tails.

He’s right, of course. Eames has booked a plane straight to Hong Kong. But that was before the fabulous kiss. What can he say, he’s adaptable.

“No,” Eames says earnestly. “I can’t spend a moment with you? Darling,” he adds, just as a reminder.

Arthur scoffs. He jerks the car into traffic and breezes through a red light. “What are your questions, then,” he says.

Eames didn’t expect to get this far. “Well, em.” Buildings zip fast the window. “Prefer a blond-haired, blue-eyed bloke, hm?”

“Christ,” Arthur says, “really?”

Eames shrugs and settles back into his seat. “I mean, whatever, you know. I’m not judging.” He’s judging. “Just. Nobody that thin and useless could protect you when you needed it. Hypothetically.”

Arthur sighs. They turn into a parking garage, and Arthur kills the engine. In the darkness of the windowless building and the crackles of the cooling car, Eames thinks Arthur has finally reached his breaking point. He’s going to snap and stab Eames in the kidneys, and Eames might even deserve it.

Arthur clambering over the center console and into Eames’s lap comes as a surprise, to say the least.

“I was just...experimenting,” Arthur murmurs. His hands come up to cradle Eames’s face.

“...And what did you find out?” Eames is feeling a little breathless again. Probably from fear. Prime kidney-stabbing position for Arthur.

“Hmmm,” Arthur says instead of any sort of useful response. “Need more data.”

The second (and third, and fourth, and fifth...) time Arthur kisses Eames, Eames is himself. Kidneys intact.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://queuebird.tumblr.com)


End file.
